


Probably Should Have Knocked

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aquaman is mentioned, Barry should learn to listen to the no touch rule, Bruce gets split into 2 people, Dubious Science, Fake Science, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pray for Clark's sanity, Superbat Reverse Big Bang 2020, and Bruce should learn to communicate his feelings better, fade to black smut, inaccurate science, oblivious idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: Gently, Diana places her hand atop his knee and shakes her head. “He’s never seen anything like the device before, Kal. He surmises that some of the tech is either alien in origin or it’s possibly tech from the future. He believes it's the latter option, rather than the former, as he did confirm the parts Bruce had been studying before, were parts to a temporal time machine.”“Oh,” Clark breathes out, his whole body slumping as if his strings have been cut.Or, Barry touches something he shouldn't, and Clark sees what's right in front of him.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 150
Collections: Superbat Reverse Bang 2020





	Probably Should Have Knocked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selofain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selofain/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[ART] Probably Should Have Knocked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749167) by [Selofain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selofain/pseuds/Selofain). 



> I had an absolute blast working on this fic and with my artist, Selofain! You can find their art [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749167)!!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this story!

* * *

Furrowing his brow deeply, Bruce Wayne — not that any could see him doing so beneath his Batman cowl — as he stared down at the components and pieces of tech that was spread around the warehouse. “You were right to call in the team for this,” he rumbles low, but softly to Barry — or rather, to The Flash — who was fidgeting next to him.

“Yeah? I mean. I know you said to call, with whatever — though you did stress you couldn’t always help, which, totally fair — but I wasn’t sure if this was, like, a League worthy call or not. But then I kept thinking what _could_ happen if I didn’t call you, so, y’know, I did,” Barry rambles as he zips here and there around the large room.

But Bruce does note that Barry doesn’t drift far enough away where he’d have to yell for Bruce to hear him, which means the listens seem to actually be getting through to the younger man. “You made the right call.” He watches as the younger man seems to release a breath, body losing tense as his body sags, as he nods. “When will the other’s be arriving? Cyborg would be a great help, considering the amount of tech there seems to be in this place.”

“He’s helping on his way. Wonder Woman and Aquaman will be late, they’re both dealing with something in their, uh, respective cities? I mean, I’m not sure if you can _count_ Aqua’s as a city, but he said he’d get here when he could. And Supes said he was putting a fire out up north, and once he had it under control he’d be here.”

He nods once, “Very well then.”

“I did send some pics to Cy, though, and well, we’ve got some, uh, pretty, um, out there? Theories on what it could be. But uh, he said it’d be better to hold off and confirm until he could get here and see what was what himself and not via the pictures I sent via my phone.”

Bruce let his eyes fall close as he takes a deep breath, before turning to shoot Barry a long, hard look.

“I _know_ , I know. I _do,_ ” Barry stresses, voice going a little high and wobbly as he continues on, “But I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to like, set a bomb or blow up the whole warehouse district or _something_. I mean, this stuff,” he pauses to flap his hands around, “Isn’t exactly my area of expertise but I _can_ recognize some of it. And what I did had me concerned about the stuff I _didn’t_. So, I contacted someone who’d be able to tell me if I could safely snoop or not.” Then he grins, big and bright, “Besides, I sent it to him on the secure network, not like, on my regular, personal phone like a dummy. I used the ones that you and Cy set up for the League to use as communication.” He pauses to shoot Bruce an offended look. “Give me _some_ credit here, I’m not _that_ hopeless, Bats.”

“I know,” Bruce cuts in sharply but lets his voice soften as he continues talking, “I didn’t think you were that reckless, Flash, but sometimes we can be caught up in our discoveries and make rookie mistakes.” Cringing internally because he _did_ think Barry might have actually done that, he makes a decision as he casts another look over everything. “Run me through yours, and Cyborgs, working theories and then do an inventory — _carefully_ — of the rest of the warehouse, while I start sorting through what _I_ know and recognize, while we wait for the rest of the team to arrive.”

Bruce doesn’t know how long after Barry zips off, he’s left by himself before he feels a sensation creep up his spine just before he feels the stale air in the place shift.

“Do we know what it does yet?”

Barely suppressing the urge to flinch at the sudden voice speaking from behind him, Batman takes a quick breath and slowly releases it instead. “You’re worse than the actual children we seem to have on this time, Superman,” he answers gruffly but blandly, not stopping as he continues sorting through the circuit boards and loose pieces of tech they’d found, and catalog their findings for Victor to go through once he’d arrive.

Or, to be more precise, that Barry had found in a warehouse just inside of Central Cities limits that had, in his very own words, had tingled his speed-force sene’s like goosebumps.

He waits a beat, fighting down the urge to smirk, as he listens to Clark fidget as he releases a soft scoff. Flicking his eyes up when he feels the wind flutter, he watches as Superman floats up and over, landing lightly on his feet opposite him on the other side of the table. 

“Batman,” Clark states, voice even and calm, though Bruce could see the small curl of a pout to his lips before he pressed them together in a bid to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

“Flash sent Cyborg some shots of what we found, and they’re theorizing, and I feel like I should _stress_ this, but they’re theorizing it may be some sort of temporal time machine.”

He watches as the other man slowly blinks, once, twice and then opens his mouth before snapping his jaw shut as they stare at one another for a long moment in silence.

“I’m sorry, but _what_ did you just say?”

“You sound surprised, Kal,” he remarks, finally letting the left side of his mouth curl up into a sly smirk. “You, who’s from a world not even in our galaxy, have come back from death, _and_ regularly team up with people with extraordinary powers. But the possibility of a temporal time machine, stumps you?”

“What? No, no, of course it doesn't stump me, Batman. I mean, we work with The Flash, who could theoretically use his powers to time travel-”

“I’m pretty sure since he actually _did_ travel back in time to contact me, we can stop using the word theoretical when discussing his powers capabilities,” Bruce cuts in smoothly.

Clark stares at him for a long second before inclining his head, as if to concede Bruce’s valid point. “Flash, who _can_ travel back in time, even if he _currently_ isn’t sure how to do that,” he gets out before cutting himself off, bringing his hand up to rub at his jaw. “Regardless, Batman, it isn’t about what the machines _can_ or _could_ do. It’s more to do with the fact who _owns_ this warehouse. That’s what got me worried.”

Letting out a grunt, Bruce nods once, in agreement. “I agree with you, it is worrisome. But I’ve already asked Cyborg to sift through and see if he can find a lead on our mysterious owner. Just waiting to hear back from him.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask the voice in your ear, if he’d do that as well,” Clark remarks as he picks something up, gently fiddling with it before placing it back down. Frowning, he glances up at Bruce before letting out a soft snort. “You asked him as well as Cyborg, didn’t you?”

“It never hurts to double check all info.” Bruce sniffs, shooting Superman a look, before letting out a short sigh. “Flash, it’s not nice to eavesdrop on others conversations.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Clark visible startles, head whipping up to look around before narrowing on something over Bruce’s left shoulder.

“How do you always _do_ that, Bats?” Flash calls out, just before flashing up to the table, swaying next to Clark but he only stays for a few seconds before zipping away to another part. “Are you _sure_ you don’t have some kind of latent ability? 'cause man, you are eerily good at knowing when one of us is trying to lurk around you.”

“How many times are you going to keep asking me that?” 

“Until I get the truth out of you,” Barry vows, flashing an impish grin, before letting out an excited sound as he zipped over, closer to where Bruce was standing. 

“Don’t touch anything,” Clark reminds, half-heartedly at most, as he sent Barry an amused look. 

Bruce resists the urge to rub at his chest, from the way his heart seems to skip a beat, glad for the fact he’d put on the suit lined with lead in it. Instead, he shifts, lifting his head to scan the table before him, and tries to think but not get ahead of himself with what limited information they had. 

Sighing inside his mind, he lets himself lamant the about the slight downfalls of working with others and being forced to wait when he’s pulled out of his head by Clark calling out to Barry, voice far sharper than it usually is with the younger man, “Flash, don’t touch that.”

Turning, to look over, Bruce can’t help but snap his eyes shut when a flash of blinding light erupts around him. Slowly, he opens them, blinking every few seconds to try and beat the darkness creeping up from the corners back. Trying and failing to focus, Bruce can’t help but feel a sliver of worry spread across his chest as he watches Clark’s face shift from annoyance to frustration to anger to worry to something that looks a lot like terror flickering across the man's face.

Then all he knows is his legs give out from under him as he sinks into the dark numbness of _nothing_.

* * *

“I’m so, so, so, so, sorry,” Barry whimpers out, as Clark comes walking back into what had been designated as the team's waiting room. “Really, man. I’m, like, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry. I know I did bad. I shouldn’t have touched it. I know. But, I just,” he continues on, hands wringing together as he flickers visibly — as if he’s forcing himself to stay still but struggling to do so. “I’m sorry.”

Clark, lets himself take a moment to reign himself in from the frustration and fear that was swirling in his mind — and had been since he saw Bruce go down — and instead he gives the younger man a tired smile. “This is why we don’t touch things until we know what they are and what they do, when people who aren’t nearly invulnerable and nearly unkillable are in the room, Barry. Alright?”

“Yeah,” the younger man agrees quietly. “I _won’t_ do it again. I promise. Lesson learned, Supes, I swear.”

Clark keeps his eyes on him for another moment then nods as he murmurs a soft, "Good," before turning to face Diana. “Has Alfred given any update on what’s happening? With, uh, with, with, um, _them_?”

“They have both awoken, while you were gone,” she answers. She keeps her voice soft but strong as she moves to place her hand on Clark’s back and guides him down into a seat before letting her hand drop. “It appears the machine has split our friend into, what Alfred, Victor and myself, essentially think, are his two main personalities: Brucey Wayne and Batman.” 

Clark can’t help the way his chest tightens, the way his stomach feels like it’s suddenly made of lead, the way his throat goes dry and scratchy, the way he feels himself wanting too — _starting_ to freak out. But he doesn’t get far, as Diana reaches back out to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gives him a soft smile. They sit like that until he gets himself back under control, sending her a small smile of thanks, to which she simply gives his shoulder another squeeze before pulling her hand back.

“Victor is in Central City now and has started on working out what the machine is and how it operates.” Here she pauses to send Barry a look, prompting the speedster to run off. “Barry says you didn’t stay long, once Bruce hit the ground?”

“Uh, no, no, I didn’t. I grabbed him and rushed us back here as fast as I could while carrying him. So Alfred could look him over at once. I think I had him in the medical suite within a moment of him being unconscious.”

“Well, it appears after it did, whatever it was, to Bruce, that the machine malfunctioned.” She pauses as a grimace flashes across her face before she continues to talk, “That some part of the circuitry caught fire. Barry says it's the reason he was half a moment behind you. He took the time to put the fire out. Victor says it was a good thing he did, as it means the repairs won’t be difficult for us to make.”

“Why do I feel like you’re building up to a _but_ here, Diana?”

“Because when we sent you to retrieve the batplane — something once Bruce is back to _his_ version of normal, he’ll be appreciative of not having his….things falling into unsavory hands — Victor let me know that he’ll need to find, or rather, he’ll need to learn how to rebuild the machine. There were at least four different components of the machine that were destroyed beyond repair for him at this time. Once he’s learned the machine and rebuilds what he needs, then he can attempt to reverse the effect it’s had on Bruce.”

Clark nods slowly, takes a moment to let his mind wrap around what she’s telling him. “Okay. So it’s going to be what, at least 24 hours before Bruce is back to being whole?”

Gently, Diana places her hand atop his knee and shakes her head. “He’s never seen anything like the device before, Kal. He surmises that some of the tech is either alien in origin or it’s possibly tech from the future. He believes it's the latter option, rather than the former, as he did confirm the parts Bruce had been studying before, were parts to a temporal time machine.”

“Oh,” Clark breathes out, his whole body slumping as if his strings have been cut.

It takes them a few hours, but eventually Victor is able to give a better guesstimate on how long it will take them to make the machine functioning properly once again....but it also brought another problem to their attention, because it meant that someone would need to stay at Justice League headquarters with Bruce and Batman, during that time.

Which is how Clark finds himself staring at the ceiling in the guest room he usually used whenever he was in a rare need to sleep, when visiting Gotham. Biting back the urge to sigh, he brings his hands up to scrub at this face roughly for a few moments before dropping them down to carefully yank the blanket off of him and climb out of bed. 

Wandering down to the kitchen, he pulls open the fridge and goes to pull out the milk when a voice pipes up from behind him calling his name, causing him to jump slightly — thankfully he hadn’t yet grabbed a hold of the milk nor had been still holding onto the door when he did so — and whirls around to stare wide eyed over at Bruce. 

And it most certainly _was_ Bruce and not Batman, with how his eyes raked over Clark’s bare chest, with how his tongue poked out and licked his lips before biting them as his eyes dropped into a hooded stare. Clark finds himself swallowing thickly, and jumping slightly at the fridge door falls shut with a soft thud. 

“Well, well, what are _you_ doing out of bed, looking so scrumptious, super-hunky-man?”

“I, um, I, I was having trouble sleeping?” he answers in a question, before closing his eyes in embarrassment and adds on, “So I thought I’d come try the warm milk trick my ma used to use on me when I was younger.”

Brucey hums, eyes still tracing over Clark’s body as he steps closer, and says in a sultry voice. “You know, I can think of a way to help you get to sleep that’s _far_ more effective than a glass of warm milk.” He gives Clark a quick wink just as he steps up into the man's space. Reaching out, he lets his fingertips just barely graze along Clark’s jaw, before trailing down his throat, and stopping just shy of reaching his chest.

He ducks his head and moves his arms up to cover his chest as he feels his cheeks warm, “You, ah, I, um, I,” Clark stammers, eyes flickering up at the other before snapping back down to the floor. He fidgets for only a second before blurting out a good night before tapping into his own speed and getting himself back to his bedroom.

Once in the safety of his room, Clark lets himself fall face first into his bed before letting out a long, low, groan of embarrassment. 

_Rao_ , he thinks as he rolls over to flop onto his back, _I hope the rest of this mess isn’t going to be filled with moments like that; I don’t think I’ll be able to survive any version of Bruce Wayne balantely hitting on me like that_.

  
  


Unfortunately, Clark not only seemed to find himself caught wrong footed by Brucey’s relentless flirting with _him_ but he also seemed to be caught off guard watching Brucey flirt oh so boldly with _Batman_ as well, over the next few days. 

He lets himself ponder how he could miss the fact his best friend was such a flirt. And only in the middle of the night, did he let himself mope about it, because clearly the reason he didn’t know was because Bruce didn’t flirt with _him_ , because _why_ would Bruce waste time flirting with someone he didn’t find attractive . So why would he bother to flirt with Clark, someone who was only a _friend_ — if that even, Clark though despairingly as he let his thoughts spiral. 

(The next morning, Clark finds himself flattening against a wall as Brucey stands before him, voice dripping with intent and eyes filled with lust as he asks about just what Clark could _do_ to him with his powers. He very politely makes an escape when Alfred calls everyone for breakfast.)

(Just hours later, Clark nearly finds himself braining himself boulders Alfred had asked him to move, as he watches Brucey shamelessly run his hands up and down Batman’s bare arms, skimming over the scared chest, as he croons about what they could get up to together. Clark promptly goes bright red and drops the boulder he’s picked up on his foot as what Brucey’s saying reaches his ears.)

(“You know,” Brucey murmurs from Clark’s left, causing him to nearly put himself through the bathroom door, “You should wear blue more often.” 

Clark can’t help but to furrow his brow as he stares at the man in question. “Oh, ah, um, why? ”

“It brings out your eyes,” Brucey answers after another moment of staring, head tilted to the side thoughtfully. “In fact, I have this absolutely _delightful_ little number back in my room you could wear. Maybe model it for me?” He’s lips spread into a flirty, toothy grin as he tosses him a wink.)

  
  


“Are you _sure_ you aren’t any closer to fixing the, uh, thing?” He asks over the comms, voice soft and only slightly verging into a whine. 

“They’re really getting to you that badly, huh, big guy?” Barry’s voice crackles from the small comms unit, followed by twin snorts of amusement.

Clark doesn’t often let himself think about feeling annoyed with his teammates, but in this moment, after the last few days, Clark for one moment imagines getting revenge in the form of letting something small slip to his mother, which would undoubtedly cause her to get them the disappointed™ stare. He only lets the mental image float through his mind for a long few seconds before snapping back to the moment, and bites back the urge to snap. Instead he lets his eyes fall close and slowly releases a breath. “I’d just like things to settle back to what _we_ consider normal. With Batman and Bruce Wayne being the _same person_ . And not in two bodies, with, um, _different_ personalities.”

“Like I told you this morning, man,” Victor speaks up, most likely cutting off any ramblings from Barry or unflattering comments from whoever else was hanging with the pair, “I should, if nothing important rises up, have the parts repaired by tomorrow. Then it’s just reversing the effects. So, again, two days tops before Bats and Bruce are one in the same again.”

* * *

“Ugh,” Bruce whines, letting himself sprawl across the couch, “How loooooooong do we have to stay in _here_?” he demands, voice high and whiny. He turns his head, and pouts at who was essentially his twin. “It’s not fair,” he pouts, moving his legs, letting the left drop down to the floor, while moving his right up to hook over the back of the couch. “I’m boooooooooored, Batsy. Entertain me,” he demands impishly. 

Grunting, Batman flicks his eyes along the built body of his other half, without pausing as he moves from one kata to the next. “While I disagree with your whine and petulance, it is tiresome to be stuck within the confines of the only manor,” he adds in a low rumble. "Though the grounds have provided a decent reprieve from the same wall."

“I mean,” Brucey cuts in, as if the other hadn’t even spoken. “The eye candy is utterly ah-mazing, between you and Super-hunky-man,” he continues, voice dropping into a sultry tone, before going back up into the whiny range as he kept on talking, “But even _that_ is becoming tiresome. I need to _do_ something. Go _somewhere_. Be _with_ people. Do anything! _Something_!”

“Or someone,” Bats remarks sarcastically, as he moves to start his cool down workout.

It seems to take a moment, but eventually Brucey pops up, eyes wide and round and filled with excitement and hunger as he turns to watch the other. “Doing someone _would_ be fun,” he states. He eyes his counterpart for a long moment, before continuing on. “But doing _two_ someones would be even better.”

Bats pauses in his movements, head slowly turning to stare at Brucey before starting up again. “Is that all you think about?”

“Oh come now, Batsy boo, you _know_ that isn’t true. After all, we’ve spent more than twenty years co-existing in the same body, in the same _mind_. You know damn well it’s not _all_ we think about, darling.” Sliding off the couch, he moves over to stop in front of Batman. “But it _is_ something we’ve thought about. A lot. Especially these last few months of working so closely together. With _him_ especially.” Pausing, he lets his lips curl up into a knowing grin. “We’re one in the same. So you can’t lie to _me_. I know you. Just as you know me. We want him. So what if we never imagined, or planned for us to be split into two bodies, when trying to _get_ him.”

“You want to seduce him like this? When we aren’t one in the same?” Batman asks thoughtfully. “Why not wait until we’re one again?”

“I-” Brucey stops before his brow furrows. “Well, I mean we _could_ wait. It’d probably actually be better in the long run, so he knows how absolutely serious we are about him. You know how little self-worth the poor dear has, after all, we can and _do_ recognize our own. Which is probably why the team works so well together. But, I’m bored,” he ends in a whine, lips shaping into an exaggerated pout. 

“ _And_?” Batman asks, sharp and pointed. 

“And besides,” Brucey pouts. “We’re _far_ too selfish to ever want to bring a third in, once we get Clark in our bed finally. So really, this would be the _only_ time we could fulfill _that_ fantasy, the threesome one; the one we’ve only thought a handful of times because we can’t make up our minds on _who’d_ be the third.”

Grunting, Bats nods once in agreement. “That is true.” Pausing for only a short beat before he adds, “On both accounts.”

“So you’re in, then?” Brucey asks, voice laced with excitement. 

“Hmm,” he hums, eyeing the Brucey — though it was mostly only to rile the other up, rather than needing any time to think about his answer. “I’m in.”

Grinning, Brucey doesn’t hesitate to lean in, capturing the other’s lips in a kiss. Though they only stay like that for a moment, before they pull apart. “So tonight then?”

Instead of answering, Bats only lets out a low grunt of agreement.

“Good.” Brucey pulls his hands back from where they’d somehow settled on Batman’s hips, and claps them together. “Now then. Come on. If we’re gonna seduce him, then we should do it in our bedroom. Otherwise I think Diana and Alfred would actually murder us from having sex in a public space in headquarters.”

Snorting, Bats nods once before stepping back. “Follow me.”

It takes them a moment — what with their constant need to stop every few feet to shove one another up against _something_ as they devour one another with harsh, biting kisses and rough hands slipping beneath clothes — but eventually they make up to their bedroom, the one they’d mutually agreed not to sleep in until they were one again. Once up there though, they realize they have a problem they hadn’t even begun to consider, when Bats asked as he left biting kisses along Brucey's jaw, “Since this is your plan, genius, how are we supposed to get Clark in here with us?”

“Ah,” Brucey lets out a low whine, hands moving up to cup Batman’s jaw, while wrapping his other around his waist. “Just, ah, just trust me. He’ll find his way up here without us needing to resort to anything all on his own,” he says in a low whiney, body jerking up to press into Bats’.

Pulling back, Batman eyes his himself for a few seconds before letting out a grunt of agreement. “If he’s not up here in the next twenty minutes, then _I’m_ taking the reigns of this little operation.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” Brucey quips, his low laugh turning into a high whine of need half way through. 

Though, Brucey had been right, when Clark had barely knocked before he was opening the door, questioning if they were all right when his eyes seemed to actually take in how they were wrapped up in one another, causing his cheeks to heat and his eyes to go round — it would have been almost comical, in any other situation, but Brucey and Bats were just happy the man had _finally_ appeared.

“Oh,” Clark squeaks out, hands accidentally breaking off the handle of the door. “Uh,” he starts, eyes never leaving the pair before him.

Slowly — so _slowly_ — Brucey and Bats pull their lips apart, turn their heads together and smile — Brucey’s flirtatious, Bats hungry and nearly primal — over at Clark. 

“Finally, Clark,” Brucey purrs. “You kept us waiting, you naughty, naughty boy.” 

Bats simply lets out a rumbling growl as he uncurls the fingers of his right hand from Brucey’s neck. “Not nice,” he adds gruffly as they begin to detangle from one another. He doesn’t move, stands as still as a statue except how his eyes track Brucey sliding over to Clark. He watches as his twin gently tugs on the other man's tee shirt and pulls him into the bedroom with them.

“I, uh, what?” Clark asks, nearly stupidly, but he lets Brucey tug him into the room, lets the other man shut the door, not that it does any good with how Clark had broken the knob off. 

Letting out a low, rumbling laugh, Brucey smiles, looking far more patient than he is, he turns to shoot his twin a smile before turning his gaze back to Clark. “Spent the last few days doing nothing but hitting on you, pretty boy, but you weren’t taking the hint. So Batsy and I, because of _course_ it was only going to work when we put our heads together-”

“Brucey,” Bats cuts in sharply. “You're getting sidetracked from the mission.”

“Right, right,” Brucey agrees airily. “You weren’t taking me seriously. So _we_ decided to work together.”

“But you, but you, I mean,” Clark stammers, wide eyes flickering between the men, “But you _flirt_ ,” he explains, “It’s what you _do_.”

“True, Clark, it _is_ something I do. And do a lot,” Brucey concedes. “But Batsy has _also_ been flirting with you. And Batsy doesn’t flirt with _anyone_ but you.”

“What?” Clark asks, voice strangled as he snaps his head around to stare at the darker of the men, even if he didn’t look darker, he still felt darker. “You-you’ve been flirting with me?” He looks astonished, that any version of Bruce would deem him worth flirting with.

“Yes,” Batman nods once. “We’ve been flirting for the last few months. But it’s clearly been far too subtle.” He moves his hand up to wave his fingers between himself and Brucey. “So we talked it over-”

“More like glossed over it because you're horny twenty-four seven,” Brucey cuts in.

“And decided to be more obvious about it,” Bats continues. 

“I, I, that, that is, well, I mean,” Clark tries but fails to actually say anything.

“Clearly we know this is a lot to take in. So just answer one question. Honestly. And if it's a no or unsure, then you can leave and we’ll back off. Absolutely no hard feelings or anything,” Brucey offers, smiling at the other man.

“Okay,” Clark agrees, nodding slowly.

“Do you want us?” Batman asks firstly, getting straight to the heart of the matter.

It takes him a long moment, but eventually Clark nods, quietly saying, “I do.”

“We want you as well. Now, before, after, all versions of us do,” Brucey admits. “But tonight we have a unique opportunity here-”

“Something we won’t have again,” Batman adds.

“Which is to say, if you don’t want it to, nothing will happen, but if you _do_ ,” Bruce continues, lips stretching into a filthy grin. “We thought the three of us could have a lot of fun tonight.”

“So whaddya say?”

Eyes moving from man to man, Clark lets himself think it over for a long few moments, before answering breathily, “Yeah, yeah, fun tonight sounds nice. _Really_ nice. With you. Both of you.”

Wrapping his fingers into his shirt, Brucey pulled Clark towards the bed as he walked backwards, “Don’t worry, Superhunky, we’ll take care of you,” he rumbles in a low whisper. "Won't we Batsy boo?"

His only answers, is a low rumble of agreement as he stalks after the two, eyes full of want and intent. 

* * *

The next morning, before either Batman or Brucey wake up, Clark slips out of bed, then out of the manor. 

Running away.

He spends the morning telling himself it’s because he hears people in need, then the afternoon because he neglected his work for the Daily Planet for the last five days, which spills into the evening as well.

But he knows it’s really because he’s scared. 

Because he’s terrified his night with Bruce was really just a night of _fun_ and nothing more. Because why would someone like Bruce Wayne, someone like _Batman_ , ever really want something more than a night of sex from someone like Clark Kent?

So yes, Clark knows he’s being a coward but sometimes even the invulnerable can be vulnerable. So he lets his insecurities get the better of him, he was only a person after all.

Though, he does break and ask Diana to let him know how it goes with Bruce, which she mercifully does with only minimal judgement. He knows he’ll have to tell her everything eventually, not only because she was a good friend who’d help him get his head on straight when he was ready to face what he’d done. Because Diana was a good person like that. The team truly didn't deserve her. 

So he spends the day moping, hiding behind other commitments, and then he spends the following three days doing the exact same before he’s forced to attend a charity gala in Gotham for an article Perry had assigned him as punishment for his days missed.

Biting back the urge to sigh as he shuffles in the corner, Clark fiddles with his bowtie as he glances around. 

“Shouldn’t you be out there getting your sound bites and quotes for your article?”

Jumping, Clark whirls around, eyes going wide behind his glasses as he comes face to face with Bruce Wayne. “Uh, hi?”

The other man eyes him cooly for a long moment before turning back to staring out at the crowd. “Have you already gotten what you need to write your article?” he asks.

“I, um, yes, yes I have?” he answers, though he knows it sounds more like a question, not as affirming as he’d been planning it too. 

“Good.” Bruce nods once before bringing his glass up to swallow the rest of his drink in one gulp. “I’d like you to come to my lake house tonight,” he says instead of what Clark thought he was about too. 

Clark shuffles before taking a quick breath as he moves to stand a little closer to Bruce’s person. “Is that, is that wise?” He watches as the other man turns to eye him for a long moment before he watches Bruce’s lips curl up into a smirk.

“I don’t think after you pulled your little disappearing act, you really get to ask about wise and what not,” Bruce remarks, voice even and cool, not betraying a hint as to what he was really feeling.

Fighting down the urge to flush, Clark glances around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them. “I thought it was best,” he murmurs. “You asked for a night of fun.” Swallowing, he does another look around. “I didn’t think you’d want me to still be there afterwards. So, ah, I left, to avoid any awkwardness.”

Clark watches as Bruce’s eyes harden, though his face doesn’t move from the carefree smirk still playing at his lips. “You were wrong. So,” he keeps his voice just as even and cool as he has been. “So you should come to my lake house after this. And I think you, and I, should sit down and actually talk about what happened. And what we both wanted from it. Because I think we’re getting our wires crossed.” Pausing, Bruce lets his facade crack, just long enough for Clark to get a glimpse at Bruce and Batman, one in the same again, before he continues talking, “I know I shouldn’t have pushed when I was split. But while they were _me_ , they didn’t have the hang ups _I_ do when I’m whole and complete.”

“Hang ups?” Clark croaks out, before making himself try to swallow around his suddenly dry throat. 

Clearing his throat Bruce shifts, eyes glancing passed Clark to the piece of art he’d been standing by. “When I’m whole I know what I lack, what I can’t offer you and what I _do_ , but while split, it was easier to look past all of that, and just focus on the want and the carve of wanting to touch you.”

“Oh,” Clark murmurs, before his eyes almost going comically wide as realization seems to dawn on him, “ _Oh_.”

“I thought I’d expressed it enough that night. But clearly I didn’t.” Shifting again, Clark watches as Bruce makes himself meet his gaze. “So. Please. Come to the house so we can talk. Honestly, talk with each other.”

Clark nods, almost dumbly, “Okay. I can do that. We can. I mean. I do have my quotes, so we could leave now?”

Lips stretching into a smirk, Bruce nods once sharply. “Now is good, now works for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately due to some issues, I was not able to write out the sex scene. So, having talked with my artist, I'll be finding the time to do so this summer! So keep a lookout for a part two in the coming months for some good ol' fashion smutty lovin'!
> 
> And as always, I'm Nixie! You can find me where I post the things I [create](https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/), or at my main blog [here](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/)!


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